We could always imagine… but we can’t. We can only breathe and rise. We react to elements, as our substances react to other substances. Sometimes..
The gleaner made a babushka’s silhouette on the hill as the sun rose, collecting yarrow in the first light when the oils were most potent,..
In a word or two, Sigyn must live. How can she wait to be seen by a God who sins?! In a word or two,..
There are days when this Earth breathes louder. Days when The Sun, sets on the East. O’clock days. Strange days. Days when structure our braids..
The Witch’s Long Winter: Slow-Brewed Samhain Wisdom from the Three Hags
The time of snow and shadow was upon us, and the jubilant hag who sits atop my ribs and skips stones in my blood made..
Stitching the Moon: The Bone-Hag Who Weaves the World
Once upon an aching autumn, I set out to find the soft and rotten center of the human story. I clawed at the rank mud..
Song Spells at Dawn: A Solstice Sun Ritual for the Gods in the Ground
Some say the gods left these lands long ago, but I say the land is god. This wild solstice, I say they are still here...
Rite of the Returned: The Springtime Majesty of a Witch in Heat
Lean close, lover. I have a confession you simply must hear before that haunted day of fire and debauchery swallows us both whole. The weather..
We are not in the Sun anymore. We excuse ourselves to be in-between realities, so we can escape what we are facing. Feathers and wine,..
(read part 1 here) (read part 2 here) When Vasilisa woke the next morning, she repeated the routine from the morning before—she watched out the..
- Next Page →
This work by The House of Twigs / Author of Article is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
You must be logged in to post a comment.